


Whumptober 2019 - 07 - Isolation

by OllieCollie



Series: Whumptober 2019 [7]
Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Gen, Locked up, Whump, and claustrophobic, he's all alone, he's having flashbacks, poor Magnum got all beat up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 09:03:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20945798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OllieCollie/pseuds/OllieCollie
Summary: Isolation. He hated that word. It was never talked about in a positive light—because there really wasn’t anything positive about being cut off from others. It brought back too many memories, full of pain and even fear.





	Whumptober 2019 - 07 - Isolation

**Author's Note:**

> One week in and I'm exhausted, but pushing forward! Must...keep...writing!

He was alone. Trapped. Isolated from the world, hidden away in the darkness. He wasn’t a stranger to the feeling. In fact, he probably had a better understanding of physical and emotional isolation than the average person. It didn’t mean the silence and solitude didn’t affect him anymore. It may have actually made it worse—there were some feelings people didn’t just  _ adjust  _ to, no matter how often they were subjected to them. 

What made this particular instance even more undesirable was the beating he’d taken before being locked up in...whatever this place was. Maybe a shed or storage closet of some sort? It was small and cramped—and hot. Sweat dribbled down his forehead; his shirt was soaked through.

Magnum couldn’t even remember why or how he’d ended up in such a situation. His memories were fuzzy and blurred together, indicating a head injury of some sort. The stabbing pain in the back of his head only backed up the assumption.

Time, too, was an unknown. Keeping track of such was rather difficult when pitch black was his constant companion. Plus, he didn’t even know how long he’d been out. 

Isolation. He hated that word. It was never talked about in a positive light—because there really wasn’t anything positive about being cut off from others. It brought back too many memories, full of pain and even fear. 

His breaths sped up as the walls seemed to close in, forcing the air right out of his lungs. Magnum had never been particularly claustrophobic, but spending over a year in a POW camp had changed a lot of things. He felt small and vulnerable. 

He must have shifted too much, because a sudden pain tore through his left shoulder, and a gasp escaped past his dry lips. From the time he’d come around, he had realized it was dislocated. If it weren’t for the fact that his hands were tied behind him, he might have considered attempting to pop it back in. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d done it. The awkward way his arms were twisted behind his back only made the injury more uncomfortable. He clenched his teeth and waited for the wave of pain to pass.

His head dropped back against the wall, and he tried his best to focus, to figure out what had happened—to remember if anyone would be able to track him down. Well, he had no doubt that Higgy and the guys would find him. It was more a matter of whether or not they would find him in time—because his tiny prison was only getting warmer, and he wasn’t sure how long he could last if no one came for him. Or maybe whoever had taken him would show up and put him out of his misery.

_ No, Thomas,  _ he told himself.  _ You have to at least  _ try  _ something _ . 

He huffed. He really didn’t feel like moving. With one good shoulder, what were the chances he could work his way out of the tightly wound ropes that trapped his wrists? Then there was the whole other matter of escaping his little prison and figuring out just exactly  _ where  _ he was.

His eyes began to drift shut. Maybe if he just rested for a few minutes, he could find the strength to attempt to free himself. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. The heat was getting to him, and nausea was welling up. Was it possible that the already-small space  _ was  _ actually growing smaller by the second?

Approaching footsteps and low voices had the injured man shooting up straight, although his limbs did not cooperate as quickly as he would’ve liked. He grunted against the pain and strained to make out the words that were being spoken, but the voices were too low. However, it sounded like an argument was taking place, and the sounds of a tussle ensued. Grunts and shouts accompanied the scuffle.

The shout of “Police! Hands where we can see them!” filled the air. Before Magnum had a chance to figure out who the familiar voice belonged to, something slammed against the door across from him and it swung open. Sunlight streamed in, forcing him to squint until his eyes were nearly closed. But the outside breeze was exactly what he needed. He practically fell out the shed, desperate to gulp in as much of the fresh air as he could.

“Woah, buddy, calm down.” A pair of hands gently shifted him into a more comfortable position. Calm down? He was trying to  _ breathe  _ here.

“Man. They really did a number on him.” Was that...T.C.? “Where are those paramedics?” he called, louder.

“On the way!” came the response—from the same voice Magnum had heard earlier. He struggled to place it, but he was too exhausted and gave up after approximately three seconds.

“Thomas, listen to me—you need to slow down or you’re going to hyperventilate.” There was no mistaking that accent, even in Magnum’s half-conscious state. Higgins. That grabbed his attention. He blinked open one eye and tried to make out the blurry figures hovering over him.

“That’s it,” someone else encouraged. The ropes around his wrists were cut, and even the slight movement of his dislocated shoulder caused him to cry out in pain.

His head was shifted to rest on someone’s leg, and a bottle of water was placed at his lips. The cool liquid felt so  _ amazing  _ sliding down his throat, and it was taken away too soon. He let out a soft whine.

“Yeah, I know,” Rick’s voice cut in, apologetic but unwavering. “Sorry, Tommy. You know what happens if you drink too much too fast.”

Magnum wrinkled his nose. Surely a  _ little  _ more wouldn’t hurt. He sighed. “I don’t...I don’t—’member…what happened,” he tried to explain, unexpected panic rising in his chest. Why couldn’t he remember? 

Someone, probably Higgy, shushed him. “It’s all right, Magnum,” she said softly. “Just rest. We’ll get everything sorted out later.”

Well, he wasn’t going to argue with that. Sleep was pulling at him, and he decided to give in. Maybe things would make more sense when he woke up.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, but I did have a lot of fun writing this one. Hope y'all liked it, too! :)


End file.
